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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672872">Finding Spring</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afoolforatook/pseuds/Afoolforatook'>Afoolforatook</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>An Anthology of Affection [36]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic, Fluff, M/M, No Beta, hopeless romantic saps, just let them be soft pleaseee, springtime nostalgia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:01:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afoolforatook/pseuds/Afoolforatook</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Qrow's favorite season is, by a long shot, Fall. </p><p>But Spring. Spring has its own special moments. </p><p>After everything they'd been through, Qrow just wanted the chance to share those moments with Clover. </p><p>And Clover decided he never wanted to miss a single one. </p><p>---------------------<br/>Part 36</p><p>Saw a post of kissing prompts. Liked a bunch of them. Decided to give myself a daily challenge to get myself actually publishing things while I work on bigger projects.</p><p>One prompt a day. Under 1500 words (or close to it).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>An Anthology of Affection [36]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805008</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Finding Spring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Prompt 36 (originally prompt 37) - Cleaning the other person's lips with a lick and a kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Finding Spring</p><p>___________________________</p><p> </p><p>Clover had always loved sitting outside on a cool breezy day. But the calm, crisp Spring air on Patch was something entirely new. And the way he saw how it seemed to stoke some little tendril of a deeper, softer, flame in Qrow was all at once a foreign discovery and nostalgic balm. </p><p>It was all perfect. Sitting under a tree whose leaves were in a stunning stage of vibrant dappled color, but not quite ready to fall; a tree just like so many others around it, on the crest of a hill overlooking a field of wildflowers. Qrow leaning against the trunk, rusted irises hidden by pale closed lids, the soft etching of crow’s feet trailing from the corners of his eyes, his expression a calm wash of contentment.</p><p>Perfect, every bit of it. </p><p>Clover pressed closer up against his boyfriend’s side, right as a soft wind rushed over them and the older man took a deep inhale, his eyes dragging open as a smile — that Clover could just about picture in the youthful face that it so clearly had been drawn up from — pulled at Qrow’s lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Smell that, Shamrock?” the slow, warm drawl of Qrow’s voice sparked through Clover instantly. </p><p>He paused, taking a slow breath of the fresh scent that the breeze had brought them. It was faint; light, but endlessly sweet. A sweetness not thick or cloying like syrup, but crisp, specific; idyllic in its simple components.</p><p>“I think so.” Clover hummed in response, watching in reverence as Qrow began to push off the tree and stand. The smile that looked down at Clover showed a hint of tender excitement, and it settled so perfectly atop the contours of Qrow’s face that it was all Clover could do not to blurt out every ounce of emotion tumbling around in his heart at that moment. But Qrow spoke first. </p><p> </p><p>“Wait here for just a second, I’ll be right back.”</p><p>And then there was a rustling of feathers and a dusty old crow flew out from under the tree and down into the field. Clover watched fondly as the small black form skirted over the flowers, obviously searching for something. Qrow landed for a moment and rustled in the grass before lifting his head, something held in his beak, and taking off again, just to dive into a bush on the edge of the trees. A few seconds passed before he emerged and turned to head back towards Clover. </p><p> </p><p>Clover was always amazed by how seamless Qrow’s transition was. One moment there was a crow flying towards him, getting ready to land, and then he blinked and there was Qrow standing over him; his deceptively slim, almost gangly, build hiding lean, precise strength; ashen tufts of hair ruffled even more than usual by the light breeze, which also fluttered familiar tattered cape draped across his shoulders; sharp jawline sprinkled with stubble and quirked with a grin; crimson eyes crinkled at the edges as he beamed down at his seated partner. </p><p>Qrow lifted a hand as he moved to sit back beside Clover, and now the younger man saw the sprigs of vegetation he’d plucked.  </p><p>“C’mere and lean your head back, lucky charm” Qrow instructed as he settled back against the tree and pat the small patch of grass between them, intending for Clover to just scoot over and close the distance. </p><p> </p><p>But there was something in the simple joy on Qrow’s face that Clover couldn’t bring himself to look away from. So, rather than cozying up against Qrow’s side, he turned, shifting to his side and then back as he lowered himself until his neck hooked over the curve of Qrow’s thigh. </p><p>He tilted his chin back and peered up at Qrow, a subtle twist of a smirk on his lips. </p><p>“Okay.” Clover sighed, teal eyes glinting up at Qrow, as he laced his fingers over his stomach. </p><p>The cheeky response and surprising movement caught Qrow off guard and he stiffened ever so slightly; Clover having to bite his cheek from laughing at the flash of flustered astonishment across his face. Qrow’s lips parted for a moment before closing again. </p><p>And now Clover was clenching his mouth shut for an entirely different reason, as his chest tight and his breath caught in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>Because, as the shock wore off, Qrow’s expression eased again. Not back to the sunny joyous smile it had been, but a soft, cautious, pleading look. His brow lifted and pinched slightly and the corners of his eyes eased; a sudden pull on soft pink skin, as he bit at his bottom lip. The gentle hold of his eyes on Clover was pure, simple, unending adoration. And Clover knew that he had to have been returning just as genuine an expression because the effervescent glow that seemed to flush across Qrow’s face was easily one of the most beautiful, breathtaking, precious, things he had ever seen. </p><p> </p><p>Neither of them spoke, as Qrow continued to gaze down at Clover.</p><p>The soft sounds of the island around them seemed to meld into one entity; one lilting melody, whistling wind and creaking wood and rustling leaves and chittering birds all weaving together to form a safe retreat from all the pain and fear the two huntsmen had faced, both on their own and as a pair. </p><p>Clover didn’t look away from Qrow’s eyes until the moment he felt cool, careful, fingers slip through his hair. And instantly, all the tension flooding his chest melted away. His eyes fluttered closed and a relieved, blessed, sigh fell from his lips, his shoulders sinking back further against Qrow’s leg. </p><p>Clover had forgotten all about the flowers; the soothing pull of Qrow’s fingers against his scalp, twirling in the hair at the crown of his head that had grown long since leaving Atlas — where gentle curls and clumsy cowlicks were now making themselves known — the only thing he could focus on. </p><p>He quirked his brow when he heard a small chuckle from Qrow, but didn’t open his eyes, not wanting the peaceful moment to pass just yet.</p><p>Ever. He didn’t want it to ever pass, this serenity that shrouded them from the world. They deserved that.</p><p>Qrow deserved that. </p><p> </p><p>But Clover finally peeked up again as Qrow finally spoke; as enamored with the warm smile evident in the tone of his voice — a gravelly, measured sound that never ceased to draw chills up Clover’s spine — as he was confused by the actual words. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, Shamrock, that proves it. You like butter.” </p><p>Clover blinked up at Qrow, utterly lost, as the older man’s expression curled with a restrained burst of laughter. </p><p>“....What?” Clover asked, Qrow’s fingers still gently trailing through his hair being the only thing keeping him from sitting up. </p><p> </p><p>Qrow lifted a small flower, plucked carefully from the branching stems of identical shiny yellow petals. </p><p>“Buttercups.” He stated plainly like it explained everything.  He rolled his eyes fondly at Clover’s still questioning look and continued.</p><p>“It’s this silly thing we used to do with the girls when they were little. Hold a buttercup under your chin and if your skin shines yellow like the flower it means that you like butter.” Qrow’s lips pursed in amusement again as Clover processed the childish game. </p><p>Qrow tilted his head and shrugged. </p><p> </p><p>“Like I said, silly. Personally, I always got excited to see the buttercups start to bloom because it meant that honeysuckle would be close behind.” </p><p>Qrow plucked up the other clump of flowers he’d laid beside him and held them out for Clover to see. </p><p>Thin, trumpeted, white and yellow blooms branched out from the central stem; silky petals curled up and away from the narrow throat, where delicate pollen dusted stamens hung, clustered around the pistil. Clover now knew what that smell was that had first grabbed Qrow’s attention. It was even better up close. The sweet scent from the flower soaked into him, warming some domestic yearning in his chest almost as much as the calm caress of Qrow’s fingers through his hair continued to do.</p><p>“Honeysuckle is the real treat.” Qrow mused, and it was all Clover could do to not actually whine in protest as he felt Qrow's fingers slip away from his hair.</p><p>Clover watched as Qrow pulled a solitary bloom from the sprig and laid the remaining bundle right above his still interlaced hands, before focusing his eyes back on the flower. He watched as Qrow carefully pinched the base of the flower and pulled, the petals sliding up as the pistil slipped out. He watched as Qrow lifted the thin threadlike center of the flower to his mouth and stuck out his tongue just enough to catch the tiny drop of nectar that had precariously clung to the stem. He watched as rust eyes squeezed shut for just a moment and stubbly cheeks lifted as Qrow hummed happily. </p><p> </p><p>“Now it’s Spring.” The world-renowned, battle-scarred, sarcastic, brash huntsman practically cooed. And again, Clover caught a glimpse of a younger man; rounder cheeks, fewer scars, thicker hair, and every bit as enchanting, as precious, as the man he'd fallen for. </p><p>And every moment just cemented it more in Clover's mind; this was what he wanted. Qrow was what he wanted. For the rest of his life. </p><p> </p><p>Clover blinked as Qrow plucked another bloom and pinched, holding the cherished drop — the moment of perfection that signaled the start of Spring, of new life — out for Clover to catch. </p><p>And he did; the tiny speck of nectar sweet on his tongue and gone far too quickly. He looked back up and couldn’t help but chuckle fondly as he caught Qrow watching him expectantly. </p><p> </p><p>Slowly, Clover pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes locked on Qrow’s. He shifted, balancing on one arm, and reached up, his fingers curling gently to cup the back of Qrow’s neck and pull him down to close the last bit of distance between them.  His eyes dropped to Qrow’s lips, slightly parted and speckled with just a hint of pollen, as he felt Qrow’s hand curve over his waist. </p><p>His voice was quiet, smooth as he spoke; a careful trill amongst the bucolic symphony around them. </p><p> </p><p>“Glad we got here in time,” Clover whispered, hovering just beyond Qrow’s reach. He leaned up the last bit and ran his tongue gently across the pollen dusting Qrow’s lip before kissing him firmly, his fingers twisting in overgrown, downy soft, silver-streaked hair. </p><p> </p><p>Clover could get used to Spring on Patch, with this breathtaking, beautiful, broken — and bound back together time after time — man. And he planned to. For as long as Qrow would have him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HEY!!!<br/>Gods... its been *a while*. almost two months...ooofff. But something clicked today so!!!</p><p>Unless plant boy gives me some of his luck, this probably won't mean that Anthology is 'back' like it used to be. Same prompts, same rules (written within a day), but not necessarily daily like they had been. I'd LOVE if that's where I got back to but between classes and poor motivation/confidence and my brain just generally not wanting to work with me, I'm not sure how likely that is. So there may be some days back to back and then a break, or every few days, or whatever. </p><p>I've still got about 24 prompts (the rest of the original list and a few I've added) and theoretically am still open to suggestions for prompts beyond that, once we get there (however long that takes). </p><p>I can't say thank you enough to everyone, for reading, for liking, for commenting, or bookmarking, for sharing, for everything (and I'm still going through comments to reply, I'm just slow as shit). </p><p>And I'm always amazed and humbled (and a little worried for your own sake) whenever I see someone marathon through Anthology with kudos. </p><p>I just... I have feelings about these two and this community okay. </p><p>---------<br/>There were 50 prompts originally, but I've already thought of a few more. Also had multiple ideas for a few, which is why some might be listed as chapter 1, with a future version of the prompt coming later.</p><p>Might not end up sticking strictly to the daily thing, but I'll do my best. Either way, here's an ongoing series of little moments.</p><p>Original prompt list - https://kashimalin-fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/178524845380/50-types-of-kisses-writing-prompts</p><p>Might edit here and there later, but the goal here was to just finish something, even if it's not perfectly polished.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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